this is something I wrote for our upcoming book Make It Make Sense which didn’t make the final cut. instead of letting it slip into the abyss of google docs that never get touched again, I thought it would be cute to send it to you 𓆩♡𓆪
Let me tell you about my favourite post on the internet growing up. It was a list I found on Tumblr of “the most beautiful words in the English language,” typed out in Courier New, along with their definitions. It listed words like “petrichor,” “limerance,” and “mellifluously:” terms I had no business using, but that I copied down in the pages of my diary thinking one day I would need them.
It didn’t matter that my extremely adolescent vocabulary couldn’t accommodate them — I was simply on a mission to bank up anything that might help me make sense of what the hell was going on inside me. Unsurprisingly, none of these words cut it (except for maybe limerance during my One Direction days but that’s another story.)
We don’t have to go looking for new words anymore - they find us. It’s not laziness it’s ‘goblin mode.’ It’s not a snack, it’s ‘girl dinner.’ He’s not boring, he’s just got a few ‘beige flags.’ Your mum doesn’t have disordered eating habits, she’s an ‘almond mom.’ You don’t have a work-life balance, you’re ‘quiet-quitting.’Each time I find myself absorbing another piece of useless slang it’s always an eye roll and I’m always obsessed. Why? Because these terms come alive to describe very specific experiences and feelings, and as humans, unfortunately, we all just want to be understood.
Enter: Phoenixing
I was phoenixing when I met Bel and she knew it. We hadn’t known each other long, and she had no way of knowing the ways my life had burned down in the years prior, but she could sense that what was going on inside me now was more than just “good vibes” or a "sunny disposition.” She sat me down and told me I was phoenixing.
Here it was, a way to explain the unique and inexplicable lease on life that I had only felt after the bad times, and something tangible that I could strive for if I descended into one again. It was how I felt showing up to school in short sleeves after a particularly bad year. It was turning the mirrors in my bedroom back from facing the wall. It was believing that there was life after loss, and that to phoenix is to glow even brighter out the other side of it all. She told me about this word and it built me a world. I told her to write it down.
It quickly became a part of my vocab - a vocab that is strangely also shared with hundreds of thousands (if not millions) of people every day – and then it became yours. We watched it take flight in a way that neither of us could imagine. It made us feel a little less alone in this big, fucked up world where every day, there are new things burning down and new ashes to rise from. It made us feel like maybe we’re not unique in feeling. Like maybe we all have down times. Like maybe we can all phoenix out of them.
Think I’ve got another word for that list.
This felt so good to read.